


Where Roses Bloom

by rebel_ren



Series: Drabbles Against Despair [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood (mentioned), Artist Clary Fray, Clizzy embracing cliches, F/F, Marriage Proposal, Romance, Roses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23220529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebel_ren/pseuds/rebel_ren
Summary: It's kind of cliche, but somehow roses have become A Thing for Isabelle and Clary. So, when Isabelle starts thinking about taking the next step in her relationship with Clary, it seems appropriate to involve roses somehow. It's hard to figure out what to do, though, because nothing'sspecialenough. What's a lady in love to do?
Relationships: Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood
Series: Drabbles Against Despair [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666300
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Where Roses Bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pameluke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/gifts).



> Prompt (from the lovely Pameluke):   
> PD: close-up photo of a bunch of rainbow-hued roses, each with petals of different colours  
> Photo by Denise Chan, seen [here](https://twitter.com/gywo/status/1240707108078829568?s=20)
> 
> Once again, I have utterly failed at brevity. Ah well. I suppose we can all use some romance and flowers galore in this, the darkest timeline...

Isabelle doesn’t know when it began, really. She thinks it might have started with a joke about how incredibly clichéd roses are, particularly red ones. They’d both rolled their eyes over it, and then Clary had shown up for their date with a dozen wine-red roses. Isabelle had laughed and pretended to swoon, promptly putting them in a vase on the kitchen counter. Isabelle had enjoyed them, often brushing their velvety petals with a gentle fingertip as she’d walked by, and when they’d come to the end of their life, she’d pressed one in an old journal for reasons she couldn’t really identify or express.

Ever since then, roses have been A Thing between them. They’ll buy them for each other on occasion, and it’s nice having fresh flowers around. Clary always signs the notes they leave for each other with a beautiful little abstract rose. Isabelle does her own version of that, which is a _much_ more basic scrawl of a flower, but Clary doesn’t seem to mind.

Time passes, and their live become so intertwined that neither can remember a life before this one they’ve made together. Occasions and milestones go by, each one marked with love and multi-hued roses, and with each passing day, Isabelle falls more and more deeply in love with Clary.

They both know where this is headed, so Isabelle keeps planning and discarding ideas for how to make it _really_ special. She asks Alec how he’d known the time was right, and he just looks over and Magnus and smiles in that besotted way he has, then tells her that she’ll know, which is… not particularly helpful.

Isabelle doesn’t tend to doubt herself, but this is different. This is about _Clary,_ who really deserves all the best things in the world, and it’s just getting to Isabelle. She knows it’s all in her head, that Clary won’t care, but… still. It’s important, and Isabelle doesn’t want to mess this up.

“Hey, babe?”

Isabelle looks up. “Yeah?” she asks, smiling as she sees Clary in the doorway. Clary’s clearly been working. Tendrils of auburn hair are escaping from her messy bun, and her fingers and face are smudged with charcoal.

“Can you come by the gallery tomorrow?” Clary asks, biting her lip. “Just want to get your read on the show before the opening.”

“Of course,” Isabelle says, getting up and going over to her girlfriend. She puts her hands on Clary’s shoulders. “You know it’s going to be amazing, right? It always is,” she says with a smile.

“I know,” Clary says with a sigh. “It’s just pre-show jitters,” she says.

Isabelle nods. “Exactly. Just wait, beautiful. It’s going to be incredible, just like always.” She smiles at her girlfriend, an idea forming in the spur of the moment.

By the time Isabelle arrives at the gallery the next evening, it’s been a bit of a hectic day, but everything is in place, and she’s excited. She smoothes down the skirt of her dress, the same wine-red as the first roses Clary ever gave her, and heads in the side door of the gallery.

Inside, everything is dark.

“Babe?” Isabelle calls, looking around as she heads into the gallery space.

“Hey, Iz,” Clary answers, and suddenly there she is, standing in a pool of light, the recessed lighting turning her hair to flame.

“…Hey,” Isabelle says, not sure what’s going on. But then Clary’s smiling, her whole face lighting up, and nothing else really matters.

Isabelle closes the distance between them, an answering smile on her face, and Clary hugs her tightly, leaning in for a soft kiss before pulling back and slipping an arm around Isabelle’s waist.

“So where’s all this amazing art?” Isabelle asks, pressing a kiss to Clary’s temple.

“Well…” Clary says softly, a hint of vulnerability in her voice. “There’s really just the one piece I need your opinion on…” She turns, and Isabelle turns with her until they’re facing the back wall of the gallery.

And then, Isabelle hears music beginning to play, a guitar strumming and, a moment later, a gentle voice accompanying it.

_Hold me close and hold me fast_

_This magic spell you cast_

_This is la vie en rose…_

“Wha-?” Isabelle asks, turning to Clary, who smiles and points back to the wall, so Isabelle continues to watch.

As the soft, melodic [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ba_WoSZXvw) of _La Vie en Rose_ continues, the screen lights up, depicting an image of intertwined thorny vines, green and verdant. It’s clearly Clary’s art, her signature style coming through loud and clear even without the signature in the corner.

“Beautiful,” Isabelle whispers, drawing in a startled breath as the image changes. It’s _almost_ the same, but it’s not. As she watches, the image continues to change, tiny buds appearing on the vines, then growing in size until the sepals begin to pull apart, showing a hint of color within.

Isabelle forgets how to breathe as the roses slowly unfurl, bursting into bloom in slow motion, unleashing a gorgeous riot of colour. These aren’t just monochromatic roses, not red or pink or yellow. These are _rainbow,_ one colour bleeding into another within a single petal.

When every bud is open, every flower in bloom, the image stills as the lights come up. The last strains of the song are still lingering and Isabelle is still looking at the screen in tearful awe when she feels Clary pull away. She turns… and Clary’s dropping to one knee, looking up at her equally tearfully with an open box in her outstretched hand containing an intricate, gem-studded ring.

“Will you marry me, Iz?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Isabelle says through a fresh wave of tears, immediate and fervent. “Yes, always, a _thousand times_ ** _yes_** _,_ Clary…”

She barely waits for Clary to put the ring on her finger before pulling Clary up and holding her tight, trying to kiss her girlfriend - no, _fiancée_ \- even though they’re both crying so hard that it’s all a bit of a mess.

Finally, Isabelle calms down a little. She takes Clary’s face in her hands and looks into Clary’s shining hazel eyes. “Yes,” she whispers and leans in to kiss Clary properly. “Yes… yes… yes…” she murmurs, covering Clary’s face in kisses, cherishing every soft sigh and giggle that results. “I love you _so_ _much,_ Clary Fray, and I can’t _wait_ to marry you…”

Mid-kiss, Isabelle starts laughing. Clary pulls away with a questioning sound, but it takes a minute for Isabelle to be able to speak. “So, uh… I kind of… had the same idea?” she says sheepishly, still chuckling. “There may or may not be a surprise for you outside…”

Clary laughs and slides her arms around Isabelle’s waist, interlocking her fingers and tugging Isabelle closer. “Let them wait,” she whispers, leaning in for a kiss, and Isabelle has exactly zero objections to that suggestion.

There may be cheesy homemade posterboard signs and half a florist’s shop worth of flowers outside, but they can wait. After all, Isabelle has the love of her life in her arms, plus a ring on her finger and another in her pocket. What more could she need?

She smiles as she kisses her fiancée again.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to prompt me here or on twitter! :)


End file.
